To Caress, Kiss, and Massage
by penvision
Summary: Peter manages to make it to his apartment after hurting his back, all he wants is a warm shower but he can't even seem to get that. Mary Jane understands. A fluffy one-shot.


Author's Notes: The Spider Man section doesn't have enough one-shots full of bizarre plots that don't include a reckless abandon of rules or an extraordinary amount of snogging in them. In saying that, I can't promise that this is any good… but at least it's different, right? As far as any questions regarding a sore back, I have a horrible back and if I strain it there's nothing like some ice and a massage to ease away the pain, which is where this idea came from. At least I wish my back rubs were like this.  
  
Plot: N/A  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Spider Man, all rights go to Marvel and Stan Lee, the comic book genius, and to whatever company it is that distributes the movie, Sony, I assume, because technically this is a movie-verse fic.  
  
…  
  
Peter ripped off his mask and struggled to stand, his hand pressed against a green trash bin in the dark alley. He slowly took a step forward, barely registering the ice cold puddle water soaking through his foot, and the hand that was resting on the bin found the small of his back. He glared at the ten story building to his left, directing his sinister gaze at the slick metal of the roof, before slipping his mask back on and climbing the brick red wall of the shop to his right. Exhausted and aching, Peter Parker headed for his apartment by rooftop.  
  
Peter's web caught the ledge of his window as he stood on the final roof heading home, all he had to do was swing down two stories and across the street without anyone seeing. After a few minutes of waiting he leapt forward without much thought other than getting home and let out a yelp as his back arched in mid-glide. Unable to stop, his knees collided into his window ledge and he plunged headfirst into the empty apartment, head thumping against the metal bed frame with a dull 'thud.'  
  
"Shower" entered his mind as he lay on the floor, head throbbing and back stinging, and Peter carefully got to his feet. He slipped out of his suit and threw on his robe before snatching his towel from the bed's wire frame and knocking on the bathroom door.  
  
"Rent!" Echoed through the thin wood a second later and Peter rolled his eyes, turning back and slamming his door behind him before falling onto the stiff bed. He sighed and slipped off his robe, resting on his stomach dressed only in Tony the Tiger boxers.  
  
…  
  
An hour later Mary Jane opened the door, "Peter" on her lips, to find her boyfriend asleep sideways on his tiny bed, limbs hanging over either edge. With a small smile she rested her knees on the bed and carefully lay down on her stomach next to Peter, his arm immediately falling across her back; reaching out for her in his sleep. She turned her head to watch him only to find a slight grimace of pain across his face. "Peter?" Peter's eyes shot open at his name and his face relaxed into a surprised smile as he realized who had woken him. "You ok?"  
  
"Ok? I woke up to the voice of an angel only to see a beautiful woman on my bed, 'ok' doesn't even come close" ran through his mind, but his mouth translated that thought into "uh… yeah," followed by a tired grin. But Peter had an odd feeling that Mary Jane knew what he meant, goofy grins plastered across both of their faces.  
  
He began to roll to his side but let out a silent cry as his hand flew to his back. Before she could ask Peter mumbled "I fell," a sheepish look dancing in his eyes. He watched curiously as Mary Jane leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss, her hand cupping his cheek. She pulled back leisurely and sat up, her soft face disappearing from his view. "What are you doing?"  
  
Her fingers folded into those of the hand on his lower back, giving it a squeeze before pulling it to rest by his side as he rolled back onto his stomach. "Just relax." Her hands found the small of his back, just above his boxer line, and tested the offending muscles, tracing circles across skin that rippled in reaction. Peter's entire back tensed as once gentle fingers pressed down on the first knot, carefully kneading it out before moving on to the next one. He pressed his face into the mattress and let out a whimper mixed with pleasure and pain. After each knot was rubbed and kneaded out fingers would return to their tender caress.  
  
Peter's eyes finally let go of their spot on the wall and drifted shut as two thumbs ran up his spine before palms and fingers spread across his broad shoulders. He let out a barely repressed shiver as the thumbs ran back down his spine. Hands worked their way up his back, lovingly massaging every inch of skin and muscle. His head dug into the mattress again and he released a groan as fingers found his neck, working out kinks and knots and pains neither could ever hope to name. Mary Jane let her hand slide up the back of his neck and into his hair for merely a second before it rested on his far shoulder as she once more lay down next to Peter.  
  
His face left the mattress and his eyes found hers. She shifted slightly and kissed his shoulder, licking her bottom lip, "you're salty." Peter watched her in awe and without reply leaned in and seized Mary Jane's lips with his own, desperate to show her the thanks that he could never put into words. The hand that had rested on his shoulder slipped back into his hair and as his slipped under her shirt to touch the smooth skin of her stomach he suddenly had an urge to make sure that he got her tasting salty, too.

R/R


End file.
